She and Me

She annoyed me. This gentle looking, blue haired "Senior" really made me see red.  She was supposed to be helpful.  That's what hospital volunteers do:  they help people navigate their way through hospitals.  But, this one?  Well... I think she needs to stay home.

Can't figure out why I'm sharing this with you, other than to blow off some steam.  Or, maybe, I need to work through this, and see if I can learn anything from the experience.  I've always said that I can learn something from everyone, educated or uneducated.... so, let's see if that holds true, and I can "walk my talk" on this one.

We had spent the morning at the hospital getting blood tests done, so we had already experienced the routine of checking in at the front desk, waiting for our "buzzer" to flash and sound off, and being escorted to the blood lab.  Now, for the second time in one day, we were back with doctor's orders to have a unit of blood withdrawn.  It's a common procedure for someone with the blood disease Polycythemia-Vera, but not always easy for geriatric patients or someone with weak veins:  both of which Mama is, and Mama has.

Knowing the procedure might take a couple of hours, we went to the ladies' room... with the buzzer tucked in the side of my purse, that purse on my shoulder, both shoulders pushing Mama's wheelchair.  It's never easy going to a public restroom when you're in a wheelchair, and the simplest tasks are not simple at all.  But, you manage as best you can. 

While behind one of the inner "closed doors", we heard someone yell.  I ignored it.  But, then the yelling continued, and this time I understood my mother's last name.  "What?  ... what is she saying?"  So, as I  opened the door, this woman in the blue coat was standing at the big door with her hands on her hips.  She promptly huffed, "You're in here...  I have been looking all over for you!"

I didn't understand why she was so rude, so I replied... "But our buzzer hasn't gone off.  I've been listening for it."

"Well, they're ready for you, and I had to walk all over to find you!"

Totally aghast at her attitude, I tried to change the mood by light-heartedly saying, "When you gotta' go, you gotta' go."  After washing our hands, I rolled Mama out the door as the bluecoat stood rigid as a sentry. 

I knew my way around the hospital.  My gosh, we had lived our lives there for nearly a year, and I needed no instructions on how to get to the lab.  But, as I rolled to the front desk, I heard this demanding voice behind me, "Keep walking!"  The one time I slowed down, she bellowed it again, "Keep walking!"

Her hostility echoed, and mine was awakened!  If I had turned around to look at her, I know without a doubt I would have lashed out at her and said or done something I would later regret:  something like slapping her in the face.  A cat fight could have occurred right there in the main lobby.  She had definately over-stepped the boundary between assistance and control. She deserved to be reprimanded:  not I.

I don't know how, but, somehow, I managed to ignore the hateful heart behind me.  Don't misunderstand me... I am not a saint.  I wanted to say plenty, and I am quite capable of doing so.  Snippets of reactions raced through my mind.  "Who do you think you are?"  "Respect your elders."  "Who made you boss?"   "A soft answer turns away wrath."  "What an old biddy!"  "Love your enemies...  Argh!"  "Talk back to her.  Put her in her place."  Right and wrong replies reeled inside my head. 

So, with my  jaws clenched, and stinging eyes, somehow I remained focused on what was ahead of me and remained focused on my real task:  taking care of my mama.    She was, fortunately, unaware of what was going on, and didn't understand the humiliation that had just occurred.  But, I did.  And, I felt it for both of us.

Before I left the lobby, I handed the black buzzer box to the woman.  "It never made a sound."  I said, and turned on my heels to walk away.  And it was over.  That little combat between two women, both trying to do their jobs, stopped right then and there.  She thought she had won.  I know I did.  Why was there ever a conflict?  Why was there ever anything to win?

Some battles you can choose.  This one was offered to me, and I could have engaged in verbal warfare with the blue-haired, bluecoat.  I wanted to, and I am quite capable of doing so.  But, time tells me that it would have been wasted energy;  energy that was required elsewhere.

It wasn't an easy day, by any means.  It was exhausting and very draining.  It was, also, a day to remember.  Hindsight shows me I should have and could have handled it all differently, but I am not perfect, and I make mistakes, too.
  
Like I said  at the beginning of my story.  I can learn from anyone, and I have relived this episode many times... over & over again, trying to figure out what good came from this unpleasant day.  Just what did I learn from this woman, besides how NOT to treat someone?    Well, I learned three things:  I learned that I can choose my battles, and I learned that I should save my energy for what really is important.

Those are good things to know, and the entire episode proved to be valuable.  Guess I need to say, "Thank you, Ms. Bluecoat, for challenging me to grow.  I am amazed that our brief time together taught me so much about myself, and I am so glad to know that I can handle folks like you.  If our paths should cross again, I do hope you're in a better mood, because you see... I have a short memory and a big mouth, and I just may not remember the very last thing I learned from you."

"And that is:  that I can make and keep my decision to move forward and to stay focused on what is ahead of me and to ignore the ugly that is behind me."

Well, now that all of this is said and done... I feel better.

Sincerely,
Cindy Lou

p.s.  Not proud of my "human-ness", but so aware of it. 


@Copyright 2011, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.